


The First Time

by Denise



Category: Stargate SG-1
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-07-11
Updated: 2012-07-11
Packaged: 2017-11-09 14:56:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,265
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/456762
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Denise/pseuds/Denise
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The first time Sam kills</p>
            </blockquote>





	The First Time

 

 

* * *

Disclaimer Stargate Sg-1 and its characters are the property of Stargate (II) Productions, Showtime/Viacom, MGM/UA, Double Secret Productions, and Gekko Productions. This story is for entertainment purposes only and no money exchanged hands. No copyright infringement is intended. The original characters, situations, and story are the property of the author. This story may not be posted elsewhere without the consent of the author.

* * *

Sam Carter would always remember the first time she killed a man.

  


To be technical, Seth wasn't her first. She had killed before. She was ashamed to say that she didn't have a tally of all the 'enemy combatants' who'd fallen from her bullets.

  


In the heat of battle, it was hard to keep track. And she didn't mind that. There was a certain peace in not exactly knowing how many lives she'd taken.

  


But that cold and rainy afternoon in Oregon…it was a day she couldn't forget.

  


  


"Hail Dorothy." The colonel's words, a mixture of awe and…something else, flowed past her and she didn't respond. Instead she simply walked past him, almost feeling like she was walking through a dream.

  


The cult members milled about the tunnel, seemingly lost and confused. And they probably were. Who knows how long they'd depended on Seth to tell them to do anything and everything.

  


Sam pushed past them, her movements getting more and more frantic as she walked. She barged past the few stragglers and ran deeper into the tunnels. She rounded a corner and came to a dead end. She pushed against the dirt wall for a second and then turned sinking to the ground with her back against the wall.

  


  


_Seth's eyes narrowing with malice as he raised his hand._

  


_The scarlet stone glowing threateningly._

  


  


Sam brought up her knees and tried to wrap her arms around her legs. Feeling a cold pinch of metal she looked down, her bile rising at the sight of the ribbon device still twisted around her arm.

  


Panic warred with disgust as she tore at the device, not caring if she ripped her own skin as she struggled to remove it. Finally, her hand free, she threw the device away. The metallic clanking of it landing in the dust echoed off the walls.

  


Struggling to calm herself, she buried her head in her knees. Her heartbeat echoed in her ears and her breathing rasped in her throat as she struggled for control. Seth's death played over and over in her mind's eye, like a DVD stuck on a single scene and she didn't fight it.

  


She knew, from experience, that fighting was futile. It was as if she was picking at a scab. She knew she shouldn't, but she couldn't help herself.

  


Seth came at her again and this time she felt his presence skitter down her spine. Footsteps impinged upon her memories and she felt her heart jerk as she heard the clank of metal.

  


He was here!

  


Her eyes flew open and she struggled to her feet, horrified to see a silhouetted figure standing a few feet away, the ribbon device dangling from its hand.

  


"No," she choked out, realizing that she was totally unarmed.

  


"Whoa! Kiddo, it's me." The figure held out his hands, his palms splayed.

  


"Dad?"

  


"Yeah, you okay?" he asked, careful to keep his distance.

  


"I’m fine," she muttered.

  


"And I'm Frank Sinatra," he said.

  


"I…I thought I saw someone come back here," she said, struggling to explain why she was hiding.

  


"I'm sure," he replied. She tried to push past him. "Samantha?" Her father's eyes glowed and Sam pulled away, stopping only when he reached out and grabbed her arm. "I do not believe that you are fine," Selmac continued. "At least not as Jacob translates the vernacular."

  


"Selmac, just…don't," Sam said, ashamed of the begging note that crept into her voice.

  


"You have never killed with that weapon, have you?" Selmac asked. "In fact, you have rarely used it."

  


"Selmac, maybe later."

  


"I remember the first time I took a life."

  


"I've killed plenty of Jaffa," she said, unfazed to be boasting about killing.

  


"This is different. To look in their eyes. To see their Kalesh flee. To feel their heart still."

  


"Stop!" Sam said, tugging to free her arm.

  


"It is good that you feel sick. It is good for you to not relish the power."

  


"Leave me alone!" she shouted.

  


Jacob lowered his head and Sam saw his shoulders relax and his stance change. "Sorry kid, he means well."

  


"I need to get back," she said, gazing solidly at his shoulder.

  


"Just…indulge me," he said, pulling her towards him. She felt his arms wrap around her and she stopped fighting, allowing herself the comfort. "You scared the hell out of me," he said into her shoulder. He let her pull away. "I know you don't want to hear this right now but you only did what he made you do. He didn't want to be taken alive."

  


"The host…"

  


Jacob's eyes went out of focus for a second. "Selmac doubts he would have survived no matter what we did," he said. "He can't remember a single instance of Seth allowing a host to survive him."

  


"Still, we—"

  


"He would have killed you and then your team and then any cult members or cop that got in his way. It was him or possibly hundreds of others and if he'd have gotten away, he'd just do it again."

  


"Dad—"

  


"Hey." He reached out and held her cheek. "He gave you no choice."

  


"I think part of me knows that," she said slowly.

  


"And I hope that soon you'll be ready to accept it," he said.

  


The ribbon weapon clanked and she looked down. "Was…was there anything I could have done to not kill him?" she asked.

  


Jacob shook his head. "No. the, aah, what Jack calls 'cook your brain' setting takes decades to master. And some never do."

  


She nodded, sighing softly.

  


"Hey," he said. "You saved dozens of people today. Focus on that."

  


"Yeah," she answered, not quite accepting his words but aware that he'd never let the topic go until he thought she did.

  


"Carter?" She heard O'Neill's voice echoing through the tunnels.

  


"I'm surprised he waited this long," Jacob said wryly.

  


Sam chuckled and looked at her father. "How are you?"

  


Jacob shook his head. "Nothing Selmac can't fix."

  


"Everything okay?" Jack called down the tunnel, a zat held in his hand.

  


"Yes, sir, I'm sorry—"

  


"It's my fault," Jacob said.

  


Jack got close and lowered the zat. "Right," he said skeptically. "We're aah, we're getting the last of the cult members out of here. Hammond has a containment team on the way but we could use your help."

  


Jacob nodded. "Sam?" he asked, looking at Jack.

  


"Carter, go with him," Jack said "Locate and ID any goa'uld stuff but don't touch anything that might be booby trapped."

  


"Yes, sir," she said, taking refuge in having a task to do.

  


The three of them made their way back to the main tunnel. Jack climbed up to the surface while Sam and Jacob ringed back into the house. "Hey," Jacob grabbed her arm. "You got any leave coming?" he asked.

  


"Yeah," she replied slowly. 

  


"I think I can pull some strings and get us a hop to….is Mark still in San Diego?"

  


Sam smiled. "Yeah, he is." She frowned as she remembered. "You do realize that Selmac is never going to let you forget that she was right?"

  


"I won't tell her if you don't."

  


~Fin~


End file.
